You look so beautiful
by xflyingsolo
Summary: Claude-centered one shot that burgeoned in my mind a couple of days after I saw Hair in London. I love writing hippies; everything seems right when it comes to them. As always, reviews   love!


"You look so beautiful," Claude whispered, observing the dance of the rest from afar. No one could hear him but the daisy he held in his hand, examining it leaf by leaf as if he expected the tender white flower to whisper back and give him answers to all of the questions that troubled him. The lamps around the alleys of the park shone upon the drizzle and it seemed to Claude that his friends were dancing in a rain of glitter. Through the sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the grass, he could hear a distant melody played on a guitar and the occasional laughter that erupted every time someone said something particularly witty. Claude wished he could join in the fun, dance with the others and laugh with them, but he was too worried, anxious; it was hard for him to even smile that night. His mind was clouded by worries and questions, by doubt and concerns. Every single man he knew had already made his decision, and Claude was the only one who still had his draft card in his pocket like a heavy stone inside his body, dangling from his heart and hitting his stomach; causing his insides to ache and his features to twist painfully. Nothing could help and he was getting desperate: earlier that night he's shared some pot with Berger and actually discussed his worries with Crissy who had done her best to cheer him up and drag him to the dancers, virtually pushing him to try and have fun with them. Now she was gone and Claude could see her jumping in circles close to Berger, yet not too close, since he seemed to have fully devoted his attention to Sheila who had her hands around his bare neck and could not stop laughing.  
"You two look so beautiful," Claude repeated and bit his lower lip as he shifted his eyes from Sheila to Berger. They did look beautiful together, their skin almost fully devoid of clothing and shimmering, wet with raindrops. Their hair, equally long, contrasted as they twirled in an endless psychedelic dance: Sheila's golden blonde locks touching Berger's raven black hair as the wind made them swing in the same direction.  
"Claude is hung up on a cross over Sheila and Berger," Jeannie used to say and she'd wave those words away with a laugh, as if it was just another joke the tribe shared.  
But she was right and only Claude could fully grasp just how painfully true her words were. He was hung up on a cross over between them. He was at a crossroad between his current life and war. He had so many choices to make and yet he seemed to be passive, talking to flowers and hoping they would provide him help and solutions. And as he stood wondering life seemed to pass by in front of his eyes. Berger and Sheila danced together; his draft card was in the pocket of his tattered jeans, not one single decision had been made.  
"Where do I go..," he sighed quietly, sending another question to the Cosmos, already foreseeing that this one will also remain unanswered.  
"Oi, Bukowski!" Berger's sharp yell tore Claude away from his thoughts and he lifted his chocolate brown eyes to stare down at his friend's waving figure, beckoning him to join the rest of the tribe. "Come down here, you son of a bitch!"  
Claude sighed and left the daisy on the grass, slowly walking towards Berger. Sometimes he wished that George would show more to him, let him see deeper into what he truly was. Claude knew Berger is so much more than the rebel, the cynic and the leader he was in front of the tribe. Claude saw in his eyes a Romantic spark and wished he would learn more about this hidden, tender side of George's otherwise flamboyant and scandalous persona. That was the reason Claude craved falling in love with him; he was mindlessly drawn towards the idea of discovering this whole new, secret Berger that would be his and only his; late at night, under the stars, in the glittery rain, between breaths, kisses and lovingly vicious pulls at Berger's black hair. Anytime when Berger said something outrageous and purposely perverted and dirty, Claude found himself dreaming of meeting the secret George that hid behind the mischievous sparks in Berger's eyes.  
"What's the matter, man?" Berger asked as soon as Claude was close enough to hear him, and wrapped his fingers around his wrist. "Haven't burned the damn piece of useless paper yet?"  
Claude sighed and shook his head, suddenly feeling guilty as though his hesitation could cause Berger's disappointment- a thing Claude did not want to cause at any time.  
"Come on, man ! Everyone's done it," Hud's warm, reassuring bass reached Claude from behind and he turned to face him, lifting his eyes to stare at his friend's face; his pearl-white teeth and big eyes shining in the falling darkness of the night. "There ain't no reason to not burn that."  
"You won't go and kill people, will you?"  
Woof's voice hit Claude from another direction and he turned again to look at the man, and he suddenly felt dizzy from the combination of pot and turning in too many different directions for a short span of time.  
"Come on, Aquarius…" Jeannie stepped towards him, taking his other hand that Berger was not holding. "Don't you believe in love?"  
Claude forced a smile and shook his head, shrugging. He took the card from his back pocket and he could hear some people in the group cheering.  
"Do it, Claude. You should have done it a long time ago…" Sheila's voice reached his ears as she stepped behind him, wrapping both of her hands around him.  
He suddenly felt too dizzy, everything spun around him and he let out a loud groan.  
"Leave me be!" when he spoke, he sounded angry, devastated and tired. "I cannot decide! I don't want to kill anyone! I don't want to keep sauntering aimlessly on the streets! I don't know what to do!"  
Sheila's hand reached his face from behind and she stroked his cheek, making him feel at least a bit calmer. He sighed again and stared at the wrinkled piece of paper in his shaking hands.  
"…I'm just a human being," Claude muttered, barely whispering, yet everyone had suddenly became so quiet he was sure they all heard him. "Just a human being. Just another number…"  
Jeannie and Berger pulled him down and he let them force him to sit on the wet grass. With a short nod, Berger sent everyone away and Claude remained surrounded only by him and the two girls, Sheila and Jeannie. No one spoke and Claude knew that they understood that he needed their quiet support more than anything. In silence, they watched as Hud walked away, dragging Dionne by the hand and pulling her back to himself, initiating a new dance that burgeoned like purple summer on an August morning and soon everyone was dancing around the small group, accompanied by the quiet song that Woof played on his out-of-tune guitar.  
"You look so beautiful," suddenly, Claude broke the silence as he turned around to stare at Sheila who was still sitting behind him, hugging him tightly. "You are so beautiful, I want to stay like this, together… with you..," he slowly turned and faced Berger, who was unusually quiet and tranquil and Claude felt as though that was the closest to the Other Side of Berger as he has ever reached. "…and you..," he took a sharp breath and looked at Jeannie who was holding him with one hand and caressing her belly with the other. "…and you…"  
He sighed and felt as if he was about to cry. This was all he wanted. He wanted Sheila, and Berger, and Jeannie, and the tribe. He wanted to love all of them, be in love with all of them, share every single night with them… He did not want to kill people and be alone. He knew what felt right to be done, yet something seemed to stop him.  
"Claude, man..," Berger started, pushing away a strand of his golden brown hair back. "Forget that damn card. Forget war, forget everything… Tonight's your night, okay? You have us to worry about; us and nothing else… okay?"  
Claude nodded weakly and felt a soft shiver down his skin as Sheila slid her hand around his neck, pushing his hair away and kissing the soft spot behind his ear, without saying anything.  
"Tonight is for you," Jeannie whispered softly as she drew circles on his chest with her fingertips. "Whatever you need to decide, you will decide tomorrow."  
Claude nodded again. He reached out and pulled Berger's face closed to his own, smiling in return as a big, content smile appeared on George's face.  
"That's right, Claude, just forget everything," he nodded and placed a kiss on Claude's dry lips. Suddenly, Claude felt light and desperate at once, he felt like he could cry and laugh, he was lost and he suddenly knew all the answers. He felt in love, trembling in the caress of the man and the women who possessed his body, giving into their touches, dissolving into thin air with each tender, wet kiss Sheila left on his neck and his shoulders; with each feather-like touch of Jeannie's fingertips as she deprived him of his sky blue shirt; with each deep, desperate kiss he shared with Berger.  
It was not the first time he's been with any of them, or with all of them at once, but it felt like discovering a whole new, beautiful, shimmering Universe that existed for no one but them. Claude had stopped hearing the guitar and the laugher and now his whole world was the whisper of the grass and the quiet sounds of wanting and need their bodies made. He found himself biting into his own lips as he heard Sheila's gasp when her lips met Berger's, while Jeannie's careful hands worked their way through moving all of their clothing away, including Sheila's scarf that held her hair back, and now her locks flew free in the wind, together with that of the rest of them.  
Claude's whole self shivered uncontrollably as he found himself pressed between Sheila and Berger, their bodies tangled together, moving so slowly it seemed that only the wind pushed them to move at all. Jeannie kneeling beside the beautiful mess they made, she caressed every inch of skin she could touch, regardless of whose skin it was, and she turned out to constantly be pulled into different, confusingly beautiful kisses – Berger's strong, slow and yet rough ones; Sheila's careful, purely feminine ones that made Jeannie give out sounds resembling a bird's song at dawn and… And Claude's kisses; Claude's soft, hesitant kisses that sent her own spirit flying over their bodies, overflowing with love and happiness; and affection, pure, loving affection at how awkward and yet beautiful her Aquarius was.  
Jeannie's eyes were wide open as she stared at the tangle of beautiful bodies and souls she loved; she observed the ecstasy, the fulfillment and passion that gleamed over the faces of her loved ones.  
"You look so beautiful," Claude heard her whisper and for a second of sanity he though she sounded as though she could read his own thoughts. They were so beautiful, the four of them. Although between his merged eyelashes he could only see Sheila's naked body and the goosebumps on her skin, and occasionally Berger's hands and his hair as he moved behind him, and only sometimes Jeannie, when he pulled her for one of those confusing, slow, flower-scented kisses. Everything Claude saw was so minimal and yet it seemed to mean the Universe to him. The occasional glimpses of the faces, the skin and the hair of the two girls and George gave him each and every one of the answers he was so desperate to find. The sight of Sheila's hair spread on the grass, Jeannie's knowing, understanding smile as she drew in air after a kiss, the way George slid his hands down Claude's body, only sometimes touching Sheila too… the very few images Claude managed to see seemed to mean more than everything he's seen; the silence between them seemed to secretly tell him everything he needed to know…  
As he collapsed next to Sheila, Berger's head falling on his back and Jeannie resting hers on his shoulder, his hand slid frantically through the grass, searching for his clothing and for the piece of paper lying somewhere next to his jeans…  
"Claude..," the way Berger murmured his name made him fall in love even more; in love with that secret, tender self of Berger's rebellious personality. "Claude, sleep..."  
"…what's happening?"  
Jeannie finished George's question, her lips sliding on Claude's skin as she spoke.  
"The… the paper… the card… I need to…" he tried to explain and all he could mutter were phrases, separate words, interrupted by gasps as he blindly searched the grass for the piece of paper.  
"You have decided?" Sheila asked, her hand caressing his back and Berger's hair at the same time.  
Claude nodded and shivered, whispering to the sky above them.  
"I want to stay with you… You… look so beautiful… I'll stay and be invisible."  
Sheila's firm grasp pushed him back so that he could fully lay down on his chest.  
"Sleep now, Claude," Berger repeated and once again, Jeannie finished his words while lovingly kissing Claude's shoulder.  
"…we'll burn it in the morning, Aquarius."


End file.
